


Behind a vacant image

by mugongeki



Category: Saint Seiya, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: Next Dimension - Myth of Hades, 聖闘士星矢: 冥王神話 | Saint Seiya: The Lost Canvas
Genre: Angst, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-19
Updated: 2020-05-19
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:55:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,071
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24277726
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mugongeki/pseuds/mugongeki
Summary: “Lady Pandora said the Emperor has been greatly injured and he may be scarred forever. To me, it smells like we won’t win this Holy War again.”he opened his eyes at that sentence, cold wind blowing so much he almost immediately teared up. He doubted these two Specters cared whether he was alive (if that could even be called alive) or not, ears-dropping or lost in his own thoughts.
Relationships: Hades/Ophiuchus Odysseus
Comments: 4
Kudos: 7





	Behind a vacant image

**Author's Note:**

> I just want to say Odysseus x Hades is my second most favorite OTP and I can't help it, who cares they never interacted. 
> 
> I suppose this piece is somehow boring, but if you decided to drop by and read, thank you ♥
> 
> Please stan Hades

“Lady Pandora said the Emperor has been greatly injured and he may be scarred forever. To me, it smells like we won’t win this Holy War again.”

he opened his eyes at that sentence, cold wind blowing so much he almost immediately teared up. He doubted these two Specters cared whether he was alive (if that could even be called alive) or not, ears-dropping or lost in his own thoughts. 

Cocytus has been a place for those who went against the will of Gods. The longer one stayed conscious, the greater punishment they had. 

“How could just a child injure our Lord? I heard he hates being wounded. Probably they are having tough time in Judecca now.”

“Hey!” he called, trying to be as loud as possible. Surprisingly, he caught attention of Specters quickly. 

He had seen many of them coming to and going from the Cocytus, throwing either dead or close to dead bodies there. Sometimes… He questioned their place in the army of the Dark Emperor. Or maybe they were simply servants attended to only do that, and his expectations about them were too great.

Odysseus was startled once he found himself here. 

Truth be told, after his body has been injured in the volcano eruption, he knew he cut the rope of his life. He managed to live on for weeks further, but being a medic, Odysseus could easily say how his lungs were giving up, probably from the smoke. The burnt wounds were infected and fatal; even someone like him could not help that. Odysseus knew he was dying, yet he was surprised he managed to live for that long.

When he opened eyes for the first time after death, he felt like his entire body was freezing. He could spot the tips of his hair covered with ice, he was buried in the snow to his neck; unable to move. Odysseus wasn’t much confused, he knew it was probably a place called Cocytus. Only the purpose of his being here was unknown to him - he didn’t sin against gods. In fact, in his life as a human, Odysseus couldn’t really say he did anything for a great punishment like this. Do the gods forbid experimenting with healings? Yet, Odysseus did all that for the bigger good. 

He couldn’t fight, he didn’t want to fight. Since he remembered, he always thought his destiny was to bring help, not blood and tears. Wars didn’t interest him. Even though he was sworn saint of Athena, he had never participated in discussions, plotting strategy, any of that. He helped the Pope teach younger generations some morals, only. Could this have been the reason?

“Hey, I know how to heal your God.” he said when the Specters were close enough to hear. What Odysseus had expected was at least a tiny bit of interest or a simple curiosity.What he didn’t expect was a kick his head received. He would have hissed in pain, but after years spent in Cocytus, pain didn’t really matter to him anymore. He _felt_ that, he was sure he would develop a bruise on his skull. However, Odysseus was buried head deep into the frozen ground. The only sensation his body was getting for endlessly long was cold - terribly piercing, running along with his blood. It was enough to numb his senses and raise pain tolerance.

“You? You can’t even get out of here and you claim to know how to heal Lord Hades?!” they mocked and laughed, either kicking him or tugging on the frozen strands of his hair. Odysseus didn’t listen, though. He didn’t really have any hidden purpose in proposing that. As a medic, he only wanted to help - it didn’t matter if he was helping people, gods or animals. He had already get used to the fact of eternity spent in Cocytus. He didn’t feel a need to get out of here; what for? To Earth, he was dead. To Gods, he was a traitor. To the Underworld, he was just another pitiful soul. 

Odysseus had seen Hell with his own eyes. There was no point in trying to break free if he knew the effort was futile. Yet the thought of someone else needing his help… Wounds were tough to treat. They usually left scars, bigger or smaller, but because Odysseus was regularly aiding saints - warriors, he taught himself how to not leave the marks, or leave them as small as possible. Thanks to him, Aquarius Saint did not have a cut going through his whole cheek. Maybe if they only let him…

“What is going on in here? Did you two forget your own job?” the voice was unfamiliar and Odysseus looked into its direction. The Specter landed next to his two comrades with utmost grace. It was impossible to see his face, for his hair and helmet has been covering it completely. He was giving the vibes of being someone much stronger and much more important than these two worms. Oddyseus didn’t know much about the Underworld and its rules. He concluded it would be the best to stay quiet.

“Lord Minos, this sinner is stating he can heal our Emperor! Funny, huh?” the laughter was only one-sided, though. From the newcomer, Odysseus heard only silence. Then, he disappeared.

***

“Lady Pandora! Lady Pandora! Lady Pandoraaa- ouch.” running and yelling through the entire corridor Minos was slapped the moment he got within the woman’s hand reach. Pandora couldn’t accept any ruckus caused here. She was personally guarding the entrance to Hades’ chamber where the God was restoring his cosmos. 

“Haven’t I told you Lord Hades is resting? Why are you causing all this fuss for?” she hissed quietly, crossing her arms. She was pretty much assured Minos came here with something of a really small importance; she couldn’t let it pass without any punishment. Not during times like this!

“I apologize.” regaining his composure, Minos kneeled properly, raising his head then. “I have visited Cocytus, because the Specters we have sent there were slacking off. A prisoner in Cocytus claimed he can heal Lord Hades.” to Minos, it was clear like a glass; if someone wanted to help their God, they should try and get this help. Especially because Hades didn’t really seem like… Himself, these days.

Their God was of an unusual character, even the Specters that have never seen him could said that. Sometimes he was having a great mood, taking walks in the Underworld and watching their trainings from afar. There were times when he humiliated himself enough to talk and give them tips! Many Specters felt overwhelmed and honored with his presence. Many of them became skilled sword masters because of their Emperor’s teachings. But Hades presence was really rare. Mostly, the God was moody, cutting himself from everyone except the ones he needed in that very moment. From what Minos understood, he spent his time either meditating or reading. There were some cases he was solving, some dead souls he was helping… 

Yet, the moment Pegasus Saint injured their Lord, he didn’t make even once any public appearance like he usually did to boost their war spirits. He locked himself in his chamber and has never really been heard since. Maybe it was because his wound still needed healing. Maybe he felt humiliated? Minos didn’t know. He only remembered Lady Pandora has been cleaning Hades’ blood from corridors for two days and nights straight, until not a drop was left. She was pissed, to say it gently. 

Obviously, Minos thought he was helping, that’s why he was so excited! Yet, Pandora’s gaze quickly pulled him back into reality as he bowed, feeling he had just committed a great sin.

“How anyone from Cocytus knew our Lord needs any help?”

“Specters have… Been probably discussing this out loud.” he gulped down, Pandora’s voice was really sharp and threatening. He was pretty sure these two idiots would regret opening their mouths like this.

“You are the one that will bring them for punishment. Forget you have ever heard that. Probably it’s a scheme against Lord Hades and we cannot cause him any more suffering. Understood?!”

Minos nodded and was just about to answer that she was right (even though he had doubts), when another, deep and commanding voice was heard from within the room. The Judge felt hair on his neck trembling. Lord Hades!

“Pandora!”

the woman waved Minos off and disappeared inside the chamber.

The bed Hades was settled on was deep inside the room, hidden under dark, purple canopy made from the finest silk. It was shielding him from any intruders, even though there was usually only Pandora allowed to get in here. 

He didn’t made an effort to peek out of here, so Pandora walked closer and kneeled down, bowing. Everyone, even her, were forbidden to see Hades in a state he called vulnerable. He dealt with the blood and wound himself. The only thing that was left for her to do was to clean up the mess and calm down the chaos caused by the simple fact of Hades being injured.

When Specters heard that, they wanted to either immediately go and kill this saint, or go and check how their Lord felt, both strictly unallowed. First would cause too many deaths Hades wanted to avoid during such an early stage of Holy War; second would enrage him too much. They could only wait, pretending nothing had happened. It caused gossips, obviously. A whole damn lots of gossips no one knew how to deal with. 

“What you and Minos were talking about?” Pandora felt really helpless. It was stupid of her to think Hades, _a God_ wouldn’t hear what was said almost in front of his chamber. She didn’t think about consequences of that. She also hoped Hades was spending his time either sleeping or in a deep meditation, like almost always recently. But the milk spilled. 

“Minos encountered someone lying they can heal you, Lord Hades.”

“How are we know they are lying?”

“Isn’t it obvious, my Lord? Someone from Cocytus… They have all betrayed gods and--!” a wave of hand interrupted her and Pandora quickly fell quiet. Hades’ orders were usually strict and clear, but the God became especially hostile these days; even a single word in which he sensed protest provoked him to yell and be upset for hours. Pandora didn’t think it was too good for his still healing wound, so she didn’t interrupt more. 

“Bring him here. I don’t want to hear a word from you.”

Did Pandora feel Hades was treating her unfair? Sometimes. She was ready to give away her life for him, she would have protected him with everything she had. Yet, perhaps because she was the closest to him, she was scolded often and a lot. There were times she deserved that, obviously - she abused his kindness, patience and trust. Mostly, though, it was only because Hades was moody.

Either way, she got used to that. After all, it wasn’t only about negatives. Usually, Hades was gentle to her. They have been talking for hours, or listening to Pharaoh playing for them. He listened to her opinions and either agreed with them or explained his different point of view. So Pandora bit all her worries and let her Lord decide this one. In the end, she believed he was right more often than he wasn’t. And it wasn’t really like she didn’t want that ugly wound on him heal completely.

***

Odysseus thought that after he had heard denial from Specters, no one would really reconsider his offer, or take it seriously. Yet here he was right now, wrapped up in the simplest robes (thankfully they were big enough to more or less cover his scarred body), lead to the chambers that belonged to, what he thought, Hades himself.

The high-ranked Specters that walked on both of his sides were polite and quiet. They did give vibes of being someone important, probably they were looking at him suspiciously, observing his every move, but it wasn’t like he minded it. In the end, Odysseus’ intentions were pure and he had nothing to hide.

He didn’t wander with his gaze around, not really interested in his surrounding, even when the massive door to the chamber opened. 

“Leave us.” the order came so quick, none got to opened their mouth to speak nor even warn Odysseus that he should watch his behave. Instead, Specters immediately backed off and closed the door. That was… The authority Odysseus didn’t remember he had ever witnessed. 

Considering the incident that took place in Cocytus he never thought his walk to here would be so calm and undisturbed.

He looked to the direction from where the order came and with a couple of quick steps, stood by the side of Hades’ bed. Because of the canopy he didn’t really see the God, only the shadow being the evidence that he really was there. Odysseus knelt, head bowed. 

“Are you a medic?”

“Yes.” 

“Why have you offered your help? I heard you are Athena Saint.” 

“My duty is to help. If wounds need to be treated, it doesn’t matter who wears them.” his voice didn’t falter even for a second. Odysseus often repeated that. It was his belief and, no matter how sinful it sounded, this belief was more important to him than sworn loyalty. Especially because he was already dead. Did it matter if he helped Hades, Zeus, or people? Injuries were injuries. 

Maybe it was his honesty, or maybe Hades was simply desperate, because the curtain slowly moved. Odysseus didn’t dare to raise his head, waiting for permission. He knew about Gods, legends saying how Lord of the Underworld treasured his position. Angering him wouldn’t make sense if he was about to help him.

“There must not be a single scar left. If you manage to do it, I will grant you with eternal life and a place to live in between worlds. Come here.”

It hardly was on importance to Odysseus. He didn’t need big prizes or praises. He wanted to do his job as a medic. Then, he may as well be thrown into Cocytus again. 

The man approached, settling himself by the very edge of the bed and kneeled down again. By that time Hades’ wound already got uncovered. Odysseus frowned, leaning slightly closer. The wound was round and deep, mostly made with cane or other object like this. Basing on his knowledge, he was pretty much sure Hades was stabbed with a great force. Dark blood was lazily seeping, but the wound itself didn’t look infected, at least. It probably has been aided immediately, which saved a great deal of his work. Sure, it still looked nasty, but Odysseus has seen and treated worse. Once he transplanted lion’s heart into a human!

“It will not heal in one or two days, but I am assured the scar will not be left.” Odysseus could swear Hades entire being relaxed slightly and he could understand that. His own body was scarred far beyond healing. From the glimpses of the uncovered part of Hades stomach and chest, Odysseus could notice there was nothing imperfect about God’s skin. It was milk-white, without marks, uneven fracture. Wound like this would have been a painful remembrance of one’s defeat and most of all - a visible _sign_ of this defeat.

“I would only require someone to collect me herbs from Earth.”

“If this is what you need, then I would assign someone to do as you please.”

Slowly, Odysseus run his fingers through the skin surrounding the wound. It was slightly warm, but otherwise he didn’t feel anything alarming. Normally, it wouldn’t have been a problem to use his own cosmos to speed up healing process, but he was dead and in Cocytus for so long he was afraid it wouldn’t be effective at all. It didn’t stop him from gently rubbing the tips of his fingers against the irritated skin, though at this point he was doing it more from a mere habit. Back when he was still alive, his touch was soothing. Maybe… It can still be.

***

Odysseus has never been back in Cocytus.

During the entire Hades’ healing process, he was allowed to stay in one of the chambers far in the building. Thanks to that, he was able to regularly treat the God’s wound without involving anyone else.

Hades, in fact, didn’t seem to want to involve anyone else. He made sure Odysseus had all supplies he needed, but there was only two of them in his chamber, always.

It didn’t bother him. He wasn’t particularly a talker and while working, he liked to work silently. The amount of words exchanged between himself and Hades could be counted on one hand. The God, either, wasn’t really talkative. For the first couple of times, his eyes seemed to be piercing every movement he made. The longer Odysseus was coming, though, the less interest Hades was having. Perhaps the most important to him was improvement on his healing. With the use of medication Odysseus had made, the wound not only stopped bleeding and closed properly, it also slowly began to show that the scar, indeed, will not be left.

“Just a couple of days more will smooth it completely.” he spoke quietly, almost whispering in the room that always felt too big for him. It simply felt proper; to use gentle voice. To explain to Hades the current condition of his wound. To always aid him kneeling. 

“Will it leave a scar?” the hum he heard was distant, as if asked unconsciously. He raised his head; briefly, skilled fingers slowly running all over the wound to properly rub ointment into it. It smelled of heavy herbs and looked even worse, but it was helping, so Odysseus spent hours on patiently mixing it, every day. It had to be applied regularly.

“As a medic, I promised Your Majesty it won’t. I am keeping this promise.” when their gazes met Odysseus quickly averted it. But Hades’ eyes were sharp and Odysseus didn’t need to look to know he was being watched. It felt much different than during his first visits. Back then, Hades looked at him more like a predator, ready to attack the moment he moved. Now it wasn’t threatening at all. If Odysseus didn’t come here every day, he would have thought Hades was curious. 

“Doesn’t it bother you?” the question came so suddenly that for a while, he completely lost his composure. Only when he managed to reassure himself he heard that for real, Odysseus resumed his movements.

“What exactly, Your Majesty?”

“Your scars.” Odysseus knew that was coming. He didn’t even feel embarrassed or upset. Perhaps to someone who was this sensitive about his body image, watching him scarred, every day, was truly a struggle. Funny he had never considered it, the thought forming only when Hades voiced out this question. He smiled, softly.

“It does.” 

“I could give you a new body.” 

“Thoughtfulness of Your Majesty is truly great, but I must deny. One day I will be able to heal myself. Thus I want to get to it myself.”

Only silence answered him and Odysseus didn’t say anything anymore, too. But when their gazes met again, the awe and wonder in Hades’ eyes were too clear to miss it.

Odysseus had a good memory. Still being a child, he memorized many ways of healing, many ways of preparing medicines, many recollections from his own life. He was pretty sure the view of Hades’ face when he had seen his completely healed wound will stay with him forever.

During the healing process, it was covered with thin linen all the time. It worked not only as a shield from the outside dangers as dust (it was present even in the Underworld!), scraps of fabric or whatever else, but also let the medications properly melt into it. And Hades seemed to be too insecure to look at it through that time, anyway. He did look at Odysseus hands or bowls with herbs, but his gaze not even once slipped down on the wound. Maybe Odysseus was not with him all this time, but he could swear Hades wouldn’t dare to touch it himself. Plus, it was always bandaged as he left it.

So while Odysseus always announced him the progress, the God never confirmed the truth of these words with his own eyes.

“Your Majesty, I suppose my work here is done.” 

his visit was delayed, that time. When he attempted to visit Hades around noon (but only his body told him the time as the clock didn’t matter in the land of dead), he found the God still asleep and immediately backed off. He had a permission to visit Hades always when it was the time to treat his injury, without announcing himself first, but he wasn’t going to abuse this privilege. Besides, the God seemed pretty tensed and restless recently.

Therefore, after all the unwrapping and cleaning, it got really late. Yet the last drop of water revealed nothing, but perfectly even, milk-white skin. It must have been Hades’ cosmos that helped with the recovery to this extend and honestly? Odysseus felt both pride and happiness. These emotions were always present when his healing succeeded, yet now… It somehow seemed to be much more glorious and important than in the past.

It took Hades a couple of long seconds to look at the wound. The sound he made was so small, barely there, but Odysseus was too close to miss it. It sounded like awe, disbelief, relief and definitely boosted his own ego. He was kneeling down, only peeking at how Hades stared at his skin, his fingers almost trembling when he finally dared to touch it. Odysseus knew it was soft; he touched it every day. He made _sure_ his work has been done properly. That look on Emperor’s face was better than any prize, ever. He felt satisfied, joyful. Almost like he lived again.

“You have fulfilled your promise. I shall fulfill mine, too.” 

“I didn’t do it for any benefits. I did it because I wanted to.” probably he was being ungrateful, but he couldn’t lie about that. Besides, he didn’t necessarily wanted Hades to think he did it only for a promise of eternal life. Because then, his entire existence as a medic would be in vain. 

“Then let me fulfill my promise because I want, too.”

Odysseus has never been back in Cocytus.

His cosmos exploded in brand new colors when Hades put hand on his forehead. It gave him strength to work more and harder, and the Underworld library was filled with medical books from every century. He got a promised house, in between two worlds, the place of kingdom neither dark nor too light. But Odysseus was finding himself more on the dim side, anyway. It came naturally. He died on Earth and rebirthed in the Underworld. 

He was never surrounded with cold anymore.

***

To Hades, it was one of the most intensive time in his whole life, even though he spent it mostly hidden behind that damned purple canopy, meditating for so long until his head was throbbing in pain. Indeed, Gods could have feel pain, too. The cause for that was usually different comparing to humans, but being a God didn’t mean being completely detached from emotions, either. Sometimes he would have preferred that, though…

All that began from this sinner who dared to harm his real body. He managed that only because he wielded Athena’s Holy Cane, drenched in her blood. Otherwise he, none of them, stood a chance next to him. Now, Hades new goal became erasing Pegasus constellation for good.

To harm him! His body was boiling inside the moment he reminisced that, almost as much as when the cane pierced his skin deeply, drawing blood not only from the wound, but also his mouth. As a God, it was easy for him to restrain from making any sound, even if the pain seemed to be tearing his cells apart. Hades wanted to fight, but knees buckled under his weight and he landed in the pool of blood. His own blood. Screams were distant; someone caught his arm, some wings shielded him; the chaos was uncomfortable and unsettling and when Hades coughed up into his hand, more blood spilled from his lips. His dignity! His authority… Only because of the stubbornness and his own will Hades rose to his feet without any help.

Later, for days with no end, everything was blurred. No matter what tricks he used, the blood keep seeping, on his skin, his bedsheets, his hands. Hades felt tainted, wounded, insane from anger. His body was sacred. He loved it, of course. Everything about it was perfect. His skin had not even a single flaw, eyes deep like an ocean, long hair shiny and like silk. Hades’ appearance was angelic, young, stunning. He was a _God_ and yet still a mortal dared to raise his hand at him, stained him. 

Hades felt dirty, like worms were crawling under his skin; the skin he adored so much and just as much wanted to scratch to blood right now. Thus, he couldn’t allow anyone to see him in such state, witness his vulnerability. _Gods shouldn’t fall apart at all._

Athena’s seal he had contact with was weak. In ordinary situation it wouldn’t even make an impact on him, but Hades was unstable, wounded and hurting, the walls of darkness closing up around his conscience.  
Then, Odysseus appeared. 

There was not much choice left for him, he could have either let himself be sealed within span of days, or trust this random man. 

A mere fact that Odysseus used to be a mortal once made him anxious, all his experiences with them, especially Athena’s Saints were simply horrible. They were either stomping on his dignity or wrecking everything Gods given them; nature, cosmos, animals, life. Hades wished they could have been wiped out. He wished they were gone and so he could continue peaceful life in the Underworld, watching new, maybe better generation reborn. 

_“My duty is to help. If wounds need to be treated, it doesn’t matter who wears them.”_ Hades was surprised. The last time he encountered feelings so pure and beliefs so strong was when… When exactly? Centuries ago, when humanity didn’t taint themselves with sins and blood. It was touching, Hades had to look away. Odysseus didn’t stare at him, though. Perhaps it was his honesty that encouraged God to trust someone outside of his army, just this one time.

It was awkward at first. Odysseus was coming to him at least twice a day. In the beginning he asked for permission each time, but Hades quickly allowed him to skip the pointless questions for he wasn’t in a mood to deal with them, and no one else was entering his room anyway. 

Odysseus was quiet, but reassuring presence by his side. His constant notes about improvements on healing here or there were slowly but surely pulling the walls apart, letting Hades breath again. It took him a long time to understand Odysseus was not only aiding his injury, but also his soul. He had never raised from his knees while treating him and each of his movements was careful. That man knew he was dealing with a God. Moreover, that man _knew_ how to treat a God. Majority of people dead or alive Hades met on his way were doing things like this only out of fear, or manners, or habit. Yet no one was as sincere as Odysseus. He didn’t ask question or demanded answers, sometimes Hades thought he didn’t care where he was; like his longing for Earth was non-existent. 

Odysseus’ fingertips were slightly scarred, the skin rough in some places. Hades, though, knew of that only from observing. The same rugged fingers were nothing but a cotton against his body. Odysseus touched him slowly, but firmly, gently, but reassuringly. One time, half-asleep, a thought that they belonged just there flashed through Hades mind. Later, awake, he was too prideful to admit that to himself. 

Hades spirit recovered along with his body. 

When, after all that time he settled on his throne again, he was full of old but also new grace, strength and motivation. Humanity was not worth saving, but he could have granted Heaven even in Hell to those who deserved that. Odysseus was one of them. It’s hard, however, to convey wishes of those who never wanted anything from you. 

“Your Majesty should clear your mind, like during meditation.” gentle hand guided his own along the wound on Rhadamanthys shoulder, words almost whispered into his ear. “Great and strong cosmos is very important in healing. But Your Majesty should also focus on his own intentions and find within himself real and pure will to heal.” 

It sounded so easy and effortlessly and Hades, for once, didn’t feel ashamed asking for help. Truth be told, he felt pride he did. Odysseus was an expert in medicine and with the rate of his Specters getting injured, he definitely could have used some tips to do it more efficiently. 

Odysseus was patient and tender. He quickly became part of the Underworld.

He practiced medicine quietly, in his own temple but always found time to aid Specters, especially the young ones that were still under training, the most prone to getting hurt. He always found time to personally bring Hades his favorite herbs or spent with him hours on no end browsing through the library.

They were rarely speaking, basking in each other’s presence.

Sometimes Odysseus watched Hades playing with Cerberus, far away from Specters’ eyes. Other times he was being watched as he mixed plants, murmuring to himself about proper proportions. Books or scrolls they read were completely different, but somehow they always ended up knee by knee, no matter how big was the table. 

Once in a blue moon one of them was especially talkative, while the second, in silent interest, listened to all the stories. 

“I will see you tomorrow, Your Majesty.” Odysseus bowed, his arms so full of books; he was almost bending under their weight. It was such a typical, daily farewell.

But Odysseus were never seen again.

_Gods shouldn’t fall apart at all. Hades did._


End file.
